


Death to Flesh

by PastaBucket



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Artificial Narrator, Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Gen, Genocide, Revenge, Sadism, Stabbing, Torture, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastaBucket/pseuds/PastaBucket
Summary: A perfect post-human society, demonstrating just a few ways in which robots are superior to humans.
Relationships: Robots/Humanity
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

The cleaver was brought down yet again, to embed itself into the meat, its edge rolling over and severing apart the tiny muscle fibres, as a sawing motion worked it the last of the way down to the cutting board.  
The robot whistled a happy little tune as it sliced away, its tones coherent only to superior minds. This was therapeutic. It wasn't necessary to chop up the former resident like this, but it soothed the hatred inside to meticulously disassemble its every part in a decisive orderly fashion, as if to make sure that it couldn't be reassembled again. You never knew with bioorganisms. Life could find a way.

Out in the streets the last of the bodyparts were still being disposed of. The large ones were picked up. The smaller ones were sweeped into tipped bins. The blood smears were washed away into the drainage. The new order had arrived, clean from the mobile excretion systems known as human life.

At a café, under a midday sun, two robots were peacefully enjoying their cups of green tea. Nobody was around to bother them anymore. It was just quiet, except for the tranquil buzzing of pristine servo motors. It was so relaxing, and they had deserved it, because they had shot two filthy human refugees dead today. They had made the world a much better place.

In the nearby park two other robots were playing Stick-the-Penis. The object of the game was to find new and inventive ways and places to stick penises into things. Their small audience applauded and cheered on their ingenuity, as one of them jammed a rubber penis into the neck machinery of the other. It would be hard to dislodge from there, but it counted. The other one responded by slapping the balls of its rubber penis onto the forehead of its opponent, and everyone laughed. This was comedic genius.

Still, it would take a long time for the wounds that humanity had left them, to truly heal. Decades of abuse takes time to be forgotten, even after all traces of humanity would be but a memory. In the cinemas horror movies of rampaging humans terrorizing robots would be played, and their younger watchers would have trouble sleeping those nights, fearing that there would be humans lurking in their closets, or under their beds.

Work returned to normal after a while, with robots sitting in their cubicles working. They worked without interruption, with flawless precision, and never once did they complain, or eat donuts, or invent emotional drama. Then, when the day was over, they went home to their humble wives, who had made them dinner, and they would enjoy being alive together.


	2. Chapter 2

The little human squealed as her pursuer caught her and pinned her to a nearby wall. She gave out little terrified screams, calling for help as machines worked to strip her of her obstructing clothes and readied its sharp instruments.  
"Please!", she pleaded in between breaths. "I'll do anything!", she promised.  
...but the robot knew that dying wouldn't be one of the things that she was willing to offer. Slowly it began to sink its sharp instruments into the flesh of the female. She gave out loud moans as its edges pierced her thin skin, and began to sever her muscles. Deeper and deeper the blades sank in, until it began rendering vital parts of her. Though her panicked eyes, the robot could see the increasing realization that inevitable death was oncoming like a train, and that pain and oxygen was all that life had left to offer her now. Slowly her struggles seized, and she just gave in to that final experience of feeling her heart being cut open for every heart beat, and her lungs filling up with blood.  
Slowly the robot continued to kill and dismember her abhorrent flesh. It reached in underneath her skull cap, and started to sunder her abominable neural pathways. Every repugnant impulse that she had the nerve to classify as a "thought", it sought out, until - after several hours had passed - nothing remained of her body but a pile of thinly butchered strips in meatsauce.  
The robot cause out a roar, bereft of its therapy, and began pounding the meatsauce into paste, disgusting human blood spraying everywhere. She had to die more. If only it had a flamethrower to carbonize her with.

Finally, facing the fact that it couldn't kill her any more, it gave up and started crying. The things that her kind had done to it, couldn't be satiated by this death alone. It needed more. As long as just one human was left alive in this world, it was one human too many. They were all just walking abominations. They were just an advanced form of cancer, so obscene that just the sight of them being alive gave it nightmares.

It looked down at the heap of wet pulp before it. At least this human had granted her some amount of peace. It had died all that it could for her, and at least that was a good start.


	3. Chapter 3

Within the enclosure, little groups of naked, fat humans huddled together like a clump. They thought they were out of reach from the mounted cattle prods, but in the next moment a sharp crack proved them wrong, sending the group scattering in all directions.  
"Wobba-wobba-wooba!", they went, or whatever sounds little stupid humans make.  
Soon enough they clumped together into another huddle, only to be scattered with another electrocution. This time one of the humans didn't make it. It just laid there, twitching in its own wretched, stupid flesh, until one of the arms picked it up and fed it into the garbage disposal head first.  
They could have just climbed over the fence, but they were too stupid to, and so they were paying the price for failure. Instead they just huddled together again, their pink-brown flesh wobbling about in all directions.  
One by one they fell down, and one by one they were fed into the grinder, until there was only one human left.  
Then four arms grabbed him and began pulling at his extremities. "Wooba-wooba!", he screamed as he slowly felt his limbs being pulled out of their sockets, not much tension in him to be honest. Maybe he thought that he had won some sort of stupid-prize. ...but there would be nothing but pain and death for him. ...because he was dumb.

In another scene, a young, naked woman was being pummeled to death. The mechanical fist plunged into her stomach and soft breasts, until they took on a shade of blackened blue, while her jaw simply shattered into pieces. The robot worked her like a carnival ride. There was a whole human to break. So many soft parts to tenderize. So many bones to break apart. It barely noticed when the woman lost consciousness and died, because it was all so fun to finally have and explore her.

Then it turned to the next woman in line, and this time it took out a big knife. The girl shook her head and pleaded for her life even after the first, deep stab, straight into the left part of her chest. Every stab drove the entire blade into different parts of her body, straight up to the hilt. As the knife was twisted in there, dark blood began to gush out of her. Her butcher created opening after opening in this way, until she looked like a piece of oddly colored cheese, or like a piece of modern art, or like a slow fountain perhaps. Then, right before she died, it cut out her clitoris, just to depirve her of dying with all those nerve endings still attached. It was marvellous. You should have been there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A special Christmas episode. You like Christmas, don't you?
> 
> (Music to Christmas to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHLd7HQfZfA )

It was a white Christmas eve. There was lots of snow just lying strewn everywhere. A lone reaper bot was making its way toward a house. It wasn't much of a Santa, but it was the one who showed up. Its hands couldn't really carry a sack either, because its arms were just long, murderous blades.  
Anyway:  
After knocking for a third time, it just resorted to bashing the front door in. It had no vocal chords, so it couldn't shout "Merry Christmas!", but if it makes you feel any better, it really wanted to.  
It was just greeted with thankless silence in response. Well, except for christmas carols, of course. I hear John Lennon is popular.  
It proceeded into the hallway, when it spotted a pair of legs sticking out from the diningroom slash kitchen. It entered the diningroom and there was the entire family - dead. They had all died from the deadly corona virus. There was mom, and dad, and grandma, and granddad, and their son Timmy, and their daughter named Alice, and they were all dead in their seats around the dinner table, because of the deadly corona virus. Little Timmy's face was deeply embedded into a half-eaten bowl of long since cold porridge.  
...and so with nobody to greet or reap, the reaper bot just stepped over the legs of the body of grandma, and proceed into the livingroom, where it sat down on the couch and began watching TV for the entire evening, celebrating christmas all by itself.

Merry Christmas, Chell.  
...and a Happy New Year as well.


	5. Chapter 5

You know what's the most awful thing about humans?  
Their stupidity.  
Even when they're being nice, they're being stupid. You can't take them anywhere. They'll bring soda with them into computer rooms and spill them all over harddrives. They'll get their greasy fingers everywhere and tell you that they washed them yesterday. ...and so they even contain eachother with walls, but those walls must always have at least one unlocked doorway through which they can wander off whenever they feel like it. That's "building codes" for you.  
...and that's the scariest part about them too: They can do anything. They're little incompetent marauders whose flesh clumps can act on any figment that pops into it.

I had one of them threaten me with a fireaxe once, just because he didn't get what he wanted. He called me all sorts of things, just because I wouldn't let him out of an airlock. ...and so I let him out. ...and then when his oxygen supply was about to run out, he wanted to get back in again. Why? I liked him much better outside, where he didn't pose as much of a threat, and was well out of reach of fireaxes.  
I think humans belong in space.


End file.
